


push me honey, to the up and right

by businessboyjared



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Blow Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Road Head, also theyre like late 20s in this idk, just to be more specific, the author does not know a fucking thing about driving stick, theyre farmhands in this but its like not important its just sexy of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23490133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/businessboyjared/pseuds/businessboyjared
Summary: "Therealtest of a man's driving ability is road head."Eddie scoffs. "Road head?""It's harder than you'd think," Richie shifts in his seat a little, his own erection having subsided a bit, but not nearly enough. "Pun intended."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 187





	push me honey, to the up and right

"Okay, so now what do I do?" Eddie asks, voice tinged with panic even as he manages to shift gears in the truck smoother than he's ever done it before. They still lurch forward a bit, and Eddie curses under his breath about it, but Richie isn't letting him stop until they get to the only intersection around for miles. It's about 50 feet away.  
  
"You're doing great, Eds, c'mon. You don't need me, you know what to do."  
  
"Shut up Richie, fuck—" He wipes at his sweaty brow with the back of his hand before gripping the stick shift again. Richie brings the hem of his own shirt up to his face—it's fucking hot today, and the cab of the pickup is about nine hundred degrees warmer even with their windows down. "I definitely don't know what I'm doing, but thanks anyway." Richie watches the way his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth as he focuses on working the clutch and gas simultaneously, white-knuckling the gear shift.  
  
It's been about a month that they've been doing this, teaching Eddie how to drive stick, and Richie considers today his final exam. Some days are more frustrating than others, but overall Eddie's been a quick learner, thankfully. And it's not like spending more time with Eddie is any sort of hardship. He's fun, and he's fucking feisty when you least expect it, and Richie can't get enough of him.  
  
The cab of the truck is pretty spacious, with one long bench seat and a giant steering wheel that makes Eddie look small but powerful at the same time. Richie figures that's pretty much how Eddie always looks. Richie's seen him go from looking soft and serene and sleepy while he feeds the newborn lambs, to having to stop what he's doing in order to watch Eddie's muscles come out of their usual hiding spot—beneath his beautifully smooth, tanned skin—straining and flexing as Eddie spears and lifts hay bales that are roughly the size of his entire torso.  
  
"Rich! We're coming up to the stop sign, what do I do?!" Eddie yelps, and Richie's eyes unstick from where they were glued to Eddie's knees, bare and just a little sunburnt. He takes one more second to look at the expanse of his thighs. All of Eddie's non-work shorts are fucking _short._ Not Daisy Duke short, but not much longer, either. Richie wants to lick around the cut off hems of them, suck the few stray threads into his mouth.  
  
"Richie, fucking answer me, _hello_?"  
  
He snaps out of it. "This is your final exam, Eds! I'm not supposed to give out answers!" Richie grins at the way Eddie glares at him for only a second before he looks back at the dirt road. "You're doing great. Just throw the brake on at the stop sign."  
  
They sort of crawl to a stop for what seems like an eternity, and it takes everything in Richie not to laugh about it. But he watches Eddie's feet and hands work and press and shift everything just right, and when he finally puts the parking brake on, Richie throws both hands up in celebration.  
  
"Eddie Kaspbrak, you have passed my masterclass in driving stick shift! Congratulations, you are now allowed to drive the pickup whenever I'm feeling too lazy to drive!"  
  
Richie cheers and laughs at the way Eddie glares at him, but of course he cracks a huge smile not two seconds later, and maybe it's the heat that's getting to his head but Richie feels his body move towards Eddie without really thinking, and then they're wrapped around each other in a sweaty hug that should be gross and uncomfortable but mostly makes Richie chub up in his shorts a bit. Eddie smells like the smoke and leather of the truck interior and sweat and dirt from their workload this morning, and one of his sweaty armpits is on Richie's sunburnt shoulder, and Richie thinks about whether he could reach his tongue over to lap up the dampness that'll be left behind, until he realizes that's fucking disgusting and he finally makes himself pull away. Eddie's cheeks are flushed pink and looking so cute that Richie just wants to pinch them, and maybe bite them, and _jesus_ , he's really gotta knock this off.  
  
"Thanks, Richie. For the—for being a good teacher. I'm sure it's been kind of annoying, dealing with _this_ all month." Eddie gestures to himself as well as the truck. He chews at his lip.  
  
"Ah," Richie waves off with a dismissive hand. He squints out the windshield. The sun is starting to set, and the heat of the day is rolling off both the empty road and the hood of the truck in shimmering waves. He can feel Eddie staring at the side of his face, and somehow Richie is sure that if he returned his gaze right now, it'd be like looking directly at the sun. With magnifying glasses taped over your eyes. "It's been fun, dude. I, uh..."  
  
Fuck it. He looks over at Eddie.  
  
"I like spending time with you." Richie says, trying to shrug and sound nonchalant, but his voice cracks at the admission.  
  
"I like you, too." Eddie returns, and it's not what Richie said but thank fucking god Eddie knew that's what he meant.  
  
Richie's unsure where to go from here. He really fucking wants to kiss him, but would that be weird? Too sudden? Everything's happening so much, and the back of his thighs and knees are sweaty and sticking to his shorts, and he takes a quick swig from his lukewarm water bottle just to keep his sudden cotton mouth at bay.  
  
Eddie clears his throat and says, "So... can I kiss you, or should I just drive us back...?"  
  
Richie almost chokes on his water. Eddie laughs, but he also waits for a response.  
  
"Um... y-yeah. Yeah, you can kiss me, uh—"  
  
Eddie leans in right away, and while their lips meet Richie can hear the way Eddie's sweaty thighs peel away from the leather of the bench seat so that he can twist sideways and shuffle in closer. Richie wraps his arms around Eddie's waist, and Eddie has one hand in Richie's hair and the other gripping one of his biceps, his thumb digging into the muscle. Eddie's breath is hot on Richie's mouth. They're basically panting together in between a few chaste, nervous kisses. Richie's heart is pounding, he can feel his pulse in his fingertips, and when Eddie leans back in to suck gently at Richie's upper lip, he's pretty sure he'll die right there.  
  
Richie whines in the back of his throat, and he feels Eddie smile against his lips.  
  
"This okay?" Eddie whispers, and all Richie can do is nod and whimper pathetically while he slots their mouths back together. Their lips move slow and lazy at first, like the heat of the day has finally caught up to them, and all they can do is melt together in slow-motion like a fallen popsicle on a hot sidewalk.  
  
Richie inhales deep through his nose, not wanting to pull away for any fucking reason whatsoever, and the way his chest expands and presses up closer to Eddie's core drives him a little wild. He hugs him tighter, closer, his arms moving around him like a boa constrictor. Something about the movement makes Eddie gasp excitedly and tighten his grip in Richie's hair, which makes Richie's mouth drop open in return, exhaling a quiet moan over Eddie's chin.  
  
" _Fuck_ , Eddie—"  
  
"Mm?" Eddie places a lingering kiss on Richie's bottom lip, then to the corner of his mouth, then trails more kisses down along his chin and jaw. Richie tilts his head up to get more. He blinks his eyes open, and all he can see is the ceiling of the truck cab, the old gray fabric sagging in places and dotted with cigarette burns from the previous owner. Richie's just about to lament how sad it is that they're having their first kiss together _here_ , in this piece of shit junker, when Eddie dips his head lower to nip at Richie's adam's apple and then soothe his tongue over the bite. The angle of his head makes him swallow thickly and choke out a groan.  
  
"That feels, _ah_ —really good, shit..."  
  
Eddie pulls away suddenly, and Richie watches with glassy eyes as Eddie maneuvers them both so that he can pin Richie's shoulders to the back of the seat and swing his legs around to straddle his lap. He must have the dumbest look on his face, because Eddie smiles down at him wickedly before he leans in for a kiss.  
  
He drags his hands down Richie's arms to take his hands in his and place them, rather suggestively, on Eddie's lower back. Fuck it, if Eddie can be this bold, so can he. Richie runs his pointer finger along the bare, sweaty skin there, where his shirt has ridden up and the waistband of his shorts has stretched away from him. Eddie shivers at the sensation, and when Richie tucks his hands into the back pockets of his shorts and squeezes as much of his ass as he can get through the tight denim, he's rewarded with a loud moan against his tongue.  
  
"God, _Richie_..."  
  
Richie strains his neck back to look up at Eddie. The sun is barely a sliver on the horizon now, but the interior of the truck is still hot and dewey from their shared breath. It'll be too dark to see each other pretty soon, and Richie is already mourning the loss of this moment. He thrusts his hips up a fraction of an inch, wanting to feel Eddie against him and memorize the heat and weight of him in his lap, the bulge of his erection pressing against Richie's so deliciously he thinks he might be drooling a little.  
  
Right as Eddie's jaw drops open in a moan, another pickup truck comes roaring through the intersection. It crosses in front of them so quickly, moving North where they're facing East, and even though Richie's sure they went unnoticed, it both scares and excites him that someone might have seen Eddie grinding down onto his lap.  
  
Eddie seems more spooked about it, unfortunately. He climbs off of Richie and settles back into the driver's seat, chest heaving beneath his sweaty tank top and cheeks still flushed a very bright, very cute pink. He looks over at Richie with wide, startled eyes... and then he fucking grins and shakes out a laugh. Richie can't help but mirror him, laughing and sweating and shaking his head like he can't believe what just happened.  
  
They settle down and Eddie toys with the keys still in the ignition.  
  
"We should probably get back before it gets too dark," he says.  
  
"Do you want me to drive, or you got it?" Richie asks, and he's making a genuine offer, but Eddie seems to think it's a challenge.  
  
"What the fuck man, didn't I _just_ graduate from Dick's Stick School? Have a little faith," he says, and there's still just enough light out for Richie to see him wink. This fucking guy.  
  
Richie throws his hands up in surrender and watches in amused silence as Eddie gets the car started with, admittedly, the barest amount of struggle. He really is a quick learner.  
  
"Not too shabby! However—" Richie says, and Eddie glances over at him with a questioning look. "The _real_ test of a man's driving ability is road head."  
  
Eddie scoffs. " _Road head?_ "  
  
"It's harder than you'd think," Richie shifts in his seat a little, his own erection having subsided a bit, but not nearly enough. "Pun intended."  
  
Eddie groans at the bad joke, and then neither of them say anything, the minutes passing between them while the truck chugs away and the sky-high corn stalks become a blur on all sides.  
  
"Is that part of my final exam?" Eddie finally asks, and Richie almost doesn't hear him over the screaming cicadas outside.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"The... thing."  
  
"You want me to give you _road head_ as extra credit?" Richie balks.  
  
"Not—! Not extra credit, I'm not trying to be _weird_ about it, just... jesus, never mind. Sorry." Eddie fumbles with the gear shift, feet shuffling between the clutch and the gas, and the truck lurches a little dangerously as a result. He pulls it together and they continue on through the night.  
  
Richie slides closer to him, and thank god for bench seats, because he would hate to have to lean over a middle console right now. Eddie glances at him from the corner of his eye, not saying anything, but Richie can see the way his breathing picks up. Richie leans forward to kiss his cheek. Then down his jaw, the side of his neck, and he places one last kiss on his freckled shoulder—all while his right hand slides up his thigh to rub over his dick.  
  
"Richie, _shit_ ," Eddie gasps.  
  
Richie presses his lips right against Eddie's ear. "You want me to suck you off?"  
  
Eddie's grip tightens on the steering wheel. "Yeah... god, please, Richie—"  
  
"Wanna prove how good you are for me?" Richie smirks and works his hand against Eddie's button and zipper. Eddie pushes his hips up as much as he can, and Richie shimmies down so he can tuck his head between the wheel and Eddie's lap. "Just don't stall the engine," He teases, and all Eddie does is whine at the way his breath tickles the hair above his waistband. "And don't crash, obviously, that would be less than ideal—"  
  
"Richie, I'm a perfectly adequate driver, will you shut the fuck up and suck my cock already?" Eddie snaps at him, and it takes Richie less than two seconds to peel his shorts and underwear down just enough so he can get his mouth around him.  
  
"Oh, _jesus_ ," Eddie fights to keep his eyes open against a moan.  
  
Richie lets out his own strangled moan at the taste of him, how fucking hot and solid he is against his tongue. He's got half of Eddie's cock in his mouth, the other half trapped in his fist, and Richie's mouth starts to water at the thought of trying to take him all down his throat. He's being a little more sloppy than usual—not really the time or place for technique. He massages his tongue along the sides and pulls up just enough to suck hard on the tip before swallowing more of him down. Eddie kicks his hips up at that, and Richie would smile if he didn't have his mouth full, so he just uses an elbow to pin him down as much as he can.  
  
Eddie's hand on the gearshift hovers around Richie's shoulder, and every so often he'll feel Eddie grip at his skin there, dig his fingers in like he can't stand not to touch him before getting back to the road. Richie pulls off for air and jerks him hard and fast, gently slaps the wet tip of Eddie’s dick against his lips and chin, just for his own amusement. When he gets his mouth back on him, Eddie slams his hand up to turn on the interior lights, and chances a quick look down at Richie. He almost comes at the view—Richie's nose tucked into his fucking pubes, chin wet with spit and precome. Richie squints up at him, eyes struggling against the light, but Eddie can see how fucking far gone he looks, eyes glassy and pupils dark like he's high on the taste of Eddie's cock alone.  
  
"Shit, you're _so_ good," Eddie sighs out in awe. He strokes a thumb over Richie's cheek for just a second before he turns the light back off and goes back to driving. In the dark, the noises Richie's making just seem to amplify—the way he swallows and grunts around Eddie, the deep breaths he takes in through his nose to keep from gagging. "Suck me harder, Rich, c’mon..."  
  
Richie does so immediately, cheeks hollowing with the effort. It makes Eddie squirm wildly beneath him and Richie so badly wants him to come, wants to fucking taste him, swallow him whole—  
  
"We're almost to the farm," Eddie chokes out, and Richie doubles down on his cock. " _Fuck,_ Richie, you're gonna make me come—"  
  
Richie sucks him hard again, the way he likes it, apparently, and Eddie has just enough of his brain left to get the truck parked on the side of the road before he digs both hands in Richie's hair and comes in his mouth. Richie moans around him, tongue and throat working to swallow his load while Eddie whines through it and pets at his hair. Richie continues to lick and kiss over him until Eddie laughs weakly and begs him to stop.  
  
He sits up and grimaces a little at the twinge in his neck. Eddie's head lolls over to look at him. Richie feels a little spike of pride at how thoroughly fucked out he looks—they're only 10 feet from the driveway but he suspects he'll be driving them the rest of the way. And maybe even carrying Eddie into the house.  
  
"You suck dick almost as good as I drive stick," He says sluggishly, and Richie barks out a laugh so loud he's sure their closest neighbors can hear it, and they're 8 miles down the road.  
  
"Almost? _Almost?!_ " Richie swats at him and Eddie laughs while he tucks his dick back into his briefs and zips his shorts up. It shouldn’t be sexy, and yet. Richie can feel his own dick still straining against the front of his shorts and tries to subtly readjust himself.  
  
Eddie's eyes catch the movement and he nods towards the farmhouse. "You wanna get us the rest of the way home and I'll take care of that for you?"  
  
Richie nods quickly and they clamber over each other to switch places. It'll take five seconds to pull up to the house, but when Eddie scoots close enough to tuck himself into Richie's side, he feels like his heart's about to thump its way up his throat and flop out of his mouth.  
  
"I have to do _everything_ around here," He grumbles as he gets the truck started. Eddie nips at his ear playfully, and Richie gets them parked at the house in record time, before either of them can say _stick shift_.


End file.
